


wish i were

by hoodiestrings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Heartbreak, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodiestrings/pseuds/hoodiestrings
Summary: "Hello," I speak. Somewhere, somewhere in the back of my mind I know I'm being foolish, that it's been years and he has ... he has someone else now. And a new life along the way. He is happy.[ a songfic based on 'heather' by conan gray ]
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	wish i were

**Author's Note:**

> haven't written in a while so sorry if it seems a little rushed.
> 
> [also published on wattpad but not on any other sites]

_i still remember_   
_third of December_   
_me in your sweater_   
_You said it looked better_

_on me, than it did you_

I remember when we were younger: the expensive hotels and the king sized beds in every room. You still ended up in my bed somehow, hands in my hair and lips pressed to my forehead like it belonged there.

"You feel like home," you used to say.

And me? I used to laugh and press my face to your chest, hide the flush that coloured my cheeks. 

It was all scary. You were standing there with your midnight hair and chocolate eyes, and you remembered me like a dog-eared book, like you had some crystal ball to look into. We used to meet up in empty dressing rooms and pretend we were just trying to prank the others (I don't think they bought it even the first time. I remember Louis ruffling my hair and giving me a knowing smile. I never thanked him).

But, even within those four walls, it wasn't just you.

There were eyes. Everywhere.

It felt like I was made of glass — I still do — but you made it better. You somehow always did.

And when you started slipping, I didn't know how to hold myself up.

You hid away behind cigarettes and empty beer bottles and I kept trying to clear away the fog with my bare hands. Guess we were both a little too stubborn.

It was on a snowy December night that you — we snapped.

I was in my hotel, body drowning in the hand-knitted sweater your mum gave you, the one you loved to see on me. I think I had worn it more than you did, but it somehow always smelled like you. The telly was on but it was nothing more than a static. And when you walked in, everything seemed to fade.

"Harry," you gave a broken smile, "Well, it has always looked better on you."

And something in your eyes broke me.

We cried for hours that night, trying to hold onto our love as if it's the sand slipping down an hourglass. You were slimmer than I remembered, eyes redder and ribs poking out and I was so _scared_ that I've lost you. I didn't though. Not — Not yet.

You left like a shadow a few months after, but I remember more than what was left of you under the spotlight.

I haven't been at home since.

_what a sight for_   
_sore eyes_   
_brighter than a_   
_blue sky_   
_she's got you_   
_mesmerized_

The phone rings loudly against my ear, steadier than my fingers and way steadier than my heart.

"Hello,"

I stop breathing.

"Hello," I speak. Somewhere, somewhere in the back of my mind I know I'm being foolish, that it's been years and he has ... he has someone else now. And a new life along the way. He is happy. Maybe that's why I was able to gather enough courage to call him; a number I never quite forgot.

"Harry,"

I close my eyes. I forgot how my name used to roll down his tongue.

_Harreh_

"Zayn," I whisper, heart trembling "Zayn,"

_I can't do it. I can't fucking do it._

I hang up.

My fingers wound up in my hair. They are trembling as they move along my scalp. He found his way – he found his way to a castle filled up with stories where I am just a forgotten chapter – and I am still _lost._ I was so afraid, years ago, to let him drown. I was trying so hard to hold him afloat that I forgot how to swim. I let him go and as I did, I let myself go as well.

His voice is still ringing in ears. He never quite lost his accent, and I couldn't help but smile. I'm not crying, not yet. I will wait until the first breaths of the night, and then remember him – a name I have not taken in years, but still seem somehow familiar. And I will think, _hey, he moved on, so why can't I?_

My eyes are burning.

_you gave her your sweater_   
_it's just polyester, but you like her better_

My phone rings. And when I pick it up, voice caught in my throat, I could hear his breaths, the one I have fallen asleep to for so many nights. They are chopped and pained. I couldn't – I almost hang up.

_wish I were_

"You _idiot,_ " he laughs, finally, "You fucking –"

I smile.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
